


Winter Sunshine

by anamatics



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamatics/pseuds/anamatics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow they'd taken a wrong turn in their search for Phillip's soul and ended up in Boston.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Sunshine

When she wakes up every morning, she thanks her ancestors that she’s alive. She’s not particularly fond of this world, or why she’s here, but she does like the mornings. The sunlight streams in across her room, all white and black, causing even the blackest of intentions to glow soft and yellow. 

Boston is a harsh city. The wind whips in off the bay and downs the air outside to the sort of temperatures that she’s only ever heard stories about. The Charles never quite freezes over, but it’s sort of a close thing. It’s locked in a constant battle with itself, as is she, getting up, going to work, pretending that she belongs. 

To rise in this weak winter sunlight and to linger in the morning is an alien sort of a concept for her. Her home, once a great and sprawling complex, is now two rooms and a toilet shoved off into a corner with a shower so small she can barely fit into it. Her rent is astronomical. 

As easy as it would be to say that she hates this place, she knows that her answer is out there, somewhere. Boston isn’t the best city, but it is _a_ city, maybe even her city. She definitely feels at home here.

There’s the quiet sound of eggs simmering in the kitchen, and she rises slowly, drawing her fingers through the morning sunlight. It has been snowing the past few days, and it’s started to acuminate causing everything to be a wet mix of salt-stained boots and slush that always manages to get tracked indoors. They’ve both realized that they need warmer coats and have no money to afford them within the city.

The sun is welcome, it is an old friend and an honored one. 

“Are you up?” it’s a question she has answered every day for the past seemingly countless weeks. Maybe it’s because her hours are different now, or because they’re working so hard to afford this tiny hell hole in the city. It’s what she wants, and it’s what has to happen because the other option is not an option.

Fa Mulan, who has suffered through far too much in her short life, pulls on a shirt from the assortment of black and white in her half of the closet, and steps into the kitchen. Aurora is there, spatula in hand and a quiet smile on her face. “Good morning,” she says, and Mulan grins in return.

Somehow, along the way to rescuing Philip’s soul they took a wrong turn and are now stuck in Boston until they can figure out how to get back. They’ve looked up Storybrooke, but that’s the last possible resort. They’re on their own now. Living together, being together, already falling deeper into the great trap called love. 

“You were up late,” Aurora comments, flipping an egg onto a piece of toast and passing it to Mulan, who takes it with a smile and heads to their tiny kitchen table. It’s thrifted, like most of their things. They both don’t have much – and coming from nothing they could have had a lot less. 

Mulan looks up over the mug of coffee that she finds waiting for her at the table and grins wryly at Aurora. “Whose fault is that?” she asks as Aurora spins on thick wooly socks that say ‘darn tough’ across the toes and comes to sit across from her.

Aurora has the good sense to blush, and busies herself with her eggs and toast. Mulan watches her eat, sipping her coffee and knowing that if they could stay here forever, she’d do it in a heartbeat. “I don’t mind it,” she confesses.

“I know you don’t,” it comes with a wink, and Mulan feels herself blushing to match Aurora. 

They have got to stop doing this. Aurora has Phillip, and Mulan probably could find someone else if she bothered to look. They’re incredibly displaced from where they’re used to, and Mulan’s still not entirely sure what exactly lead to them being here. She hates that she likes it, hates that she can lay Aurora out on her back and make her wanton in ways that Mulan has never dreamed were possible. 

Boston, too, is growing on her.

It is a city where they can be themselves and no one seems to judge. Mulan’s become acquainted with the local culture, and has read as best she can about the history of this place. They’re under some sort of curse; she knows it, because they had names and lives waiting for them here. She wonders if this is somehow Cora’s doing, to keep Aurora and her away from Storybrooke. 

Maybe it’s for the best that they stay here. Without the knowledge of one such as Snow or even Emma’s lover (and Mulan’s not entirely sure about that particular fact, but seriously, if you have a son together, you are probably in a relationship, right?) they have no way of knowing where to go in their destroyed land to find such an answer.

This world is without magic, but they’re making a magic all of their own now.

Aurora’s hand feels warm in her own now as they stare out towards the bay, out the large window of their bedroom. 

“Do you think we should go to Storybrooke?” Mulan asks, almost fearful of Aurora’s answer.

Aurora looks as though she’s trying to put something carefully. She gets that look sometimes, before she says something wholly ridiculous or marginally insulting. Her mouth gets her into trouble sometimes but she works with kids who speak just as she does – and the whole thing seems to work quite well. “We found our way this far without them, didn’t we?”

Mulan inclines her head to one side and nods her agreement. Maybe someday they can go to Maine and figure things out. For now though, they’re both content with this curse running its course. This is something new; there are people who are alive here, and no ogres to speak of.

“A new beginning,” she says at length, and Aurora leans against her. Her hair smells like the sunshine that’s catching them both and bathing them in yellow light. “I like it.”


End file.
